[02 Jan. 2008][D.Gray-Man] End of Days, Part 2
Title: End of Days, Part 2
Day/Theme: Jan. 2nd/ conjoined by mystery and fate
Series: D.Gray-Man
Character/Pairing: Ensemble, with a few OCs.
Rating: R
Notes: AU set right before the end of chapter 134, but assume spoilers through chapter 143 and following.
Part 1
Even before the viewscreen was turned on, a total of thirty-five weeks worth of wages had been bet on this all being Cross Marian's fault.
Publicly, Reever called the bettors idiots and told them it wasn't right to gamble on things like that. Privately, he congratulated himself on knowing better than to take a sucker's bet. Then, he pulled Johnny aside and told him to go through the papers on Komui's desk.
"Just in case," he whispered, slapping Johnny lightly between the shoulderblades and sending the poor soul to deal with mountains of paper that never seemed to get any smaller no matter how much sorting and signing was done. Everyone took their usual spots, 65 activated the screen, and lines of static quickly resolved into a picture.
The whole thing was an off-key echo of the day Allen first showed up: the entire science division staring at the screen and wondering what the hell was going on, Komui sipping at his coffee, Reever sprawled on the bench and concentrating more on the audio than the video, 65 practically pressed against the screen.
"How'd they get so close without anyone stopping them?" Komui asked. Again, it was like before, but this time the coffee was watery and pale; no one other than Lenalee really understood how the coffee pot was supposed to work.
And there was no Lenalee there to make the coffee. Even so, Reever chimed in with the answer. "Why would they? They look official. Who's on guard duty, anyway?"
"They should have known to look closely."
It wasn't exactly the same, but it was beginning to feel as if history had drawn back to some strange focal point. Allen's arrival had been the harbinger of swift and rapid change--not all of it good. Now this group was here, and no one seemed eager to know what would happen next. They wore studied boredom like a shield and they did their best not to hope.
A yelp, a fluttering cascade of falling paper, and a muffled cry for help hinted that Johnny was not having much luck with his search.
"Want me to call the Asia Branch and see what Cross says?" Reever asked over his shoulder. "He sent Allen..."
"Allen didn't come in full uniform." Komui said. These people looked more official than Allen did, but for some reason that didn't help. "I also didn't get a letter this time."
No one chose to respond to that remark. Johnny's complaints about spider bites and dust was commentary enough. Besides--and Reever didn't know if anyone else had picked up on it--there was an edge to Komui's voice.
"Cross wouldn't pay to have uniforms made up. Can anyone make out enough detail to see if they're really ours or not?"
"If someone faked them up, they did a good job of making them look like they've been through the wars. Sizing's off, though. Too bad we're losing daylight." Reever sat up and leaned forwards, elbows resting on splayed knees. He turned his attention away from the audio and the repeated, jollying statements that the speaker understood their suspicions, but if they could just talk to Branch Chief Komui, he was sure everything would be settled to everyone's satisfaction.
Once Reever actually took time to look at the video he thought he could make a pretty accurate guess as to why Komui was working towards a serious case of pissed-off.
"Why's the Finder the one doing all the talking?" Tapp asked.
As it turned out, there were four people outside, not the three they had expected to see. It did not reflect well on the watchman who called in the report that he had not seen fit to mention that the three Exorcists had come with their own Finder.
Of the four, the Finder's uniform was the poorest-fitting. The sleeves may have been the right length, but his bulky frame as lost in excess fabric, and the trousers looked more like pantaloons. The man had his hood up, but it didn't do much to obscure the broad jaw and Roman nose. Only the eyes were in any way shadowed, but the man used his hands as much as his voice to communicate, and everyone in Komui's office could read his growing frustration as the gate hemmed and hawed, stalling until it received orders to let them in.
"Just a word, a brief word, I beg you..." Hands scooped at the air as if inviting out those who were inside.
The three supposed exorcists stood several paces behind him, as if they were the Finder's attendants rather than the other way around.
The oldest, a slender, almost scrawny man with a thin, pinched face and sharply swept eyebrows--Reever put him at about Kanda's age, maybe a little older--stood off to the side of the group. His jacket and trousers were too large, but not to the extreme the Finder's were. At this angle, Reever couldn't tell if the light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail or simply combed back severely. For some reason, he had supplemented his uniform with an over-large green ascot that crowded up under his chin. He stood with every muscle tensed, fists clenching and staring at the gate as if wanting to issue a challenge. From time to time, he flicked his gaze towards the Finder as if wondering when the hell the man would get to the point and get them in.
"I swear to you upon the honor of the Holy Virgin, that we are true members of the Black Order..." Arms spread wide, indicating that they were all brothers, know it yet or not.
The oaths, which had started as almost playful, were gaining a faint edge of desperation. Still, though, the Finder kept up a jovial façade.
The other two exorcists were picking up on his anxiety, expressing it as he wouldn't. One, a dark-haired, Slavic-featured boy in his mid-teens, bounced on the balls of his feet and looked around up, down, sideways, and even swiveling to look back over his shoulder. Unlike the others, his uniform was too small, wrists and ankles well clear of the cuffs. He fidgeted with a small, smooth stick, twirling it over and over between his fingers. It was probably only a matter of time before he started tossing it up in the air and catching it.
Reever's earpiece buzzed. He tapped at it, listened, frowned. "Hevlaska knows they're out there--she can feel them, feel the Innocence resonating. Or something," he said. He looked over his shoulder. Komui was glaring at the screen. His knuckles were white from grasping his coffee cup. "You think they're legit, then?"
"I don't know." The simple statement betrayed far more hope and fear than it should have. They had lost so many; they had come so close to losing everything. If these exorcists were the real thing, it was a much needed miracle. If not...
Reever told himself that they had two Generals and well over a dozen Vatican-trained guards on site. That should be enough, right? He had a gun, if it came to that, but it was secured in his desk back in the labs.
But maybe these four were the real thing.
"I have vital information I must share, but I cannot share it here. Please understand..."
The last exorcist stood behind the fidgeting boy, nearly hidden by him. Her uniform was, like his, a size too small. It also showed signs of heavy wear--including deep charring on one cuff and sleeve that corresponded with a thick bandage on that wrist. She had wrapped her red silk shawl so tightly around her shoulders it looked more like a security blanket than a something a fashionable lady might wear on an evening out. If bets were being taken on the subject, Reever would bet five weeks' pay she was the reason behind Komui's cold, growing anger: the girl could be no more than ten years old.
It didn't take much imagination to see another girl standing in her place.
"Please. We have come a long way to re-join you, and we barely got to you in time. Will you please at least let us in so we can eat and get an hour or two of rest...".
"Did he just say re-join?" Reever barely heard Komui's incredulous protest over Johnny calling out couldn't find anything on the Chief's desk at the same time he also got a burst of screeching static straight in one ear.
"Damn it, Hevlaska!" he snapped, yanking the headset away from his ear. Komui turned to ask him what was going on, but Johnny had made his way around to the front of the room, never minding that he was blocking everyone's view. He was covered in cobwebs.
"Guys..." Johnny's head was cocked slightly, like a dog who'd just heard a high-pitched noise.
"Hevlaska wants to see them as soon as possible." Reever poked at his ear, hoping that would do something to restore the hearing. "Do you think it's worth--"
"I know this guy."
"It's a risk but--" Komui's voice cut short and he and everyone else stared at Johnny.
"You know him? Him who?"
Johnny tapped on the screen, leaving a smudge over the oldest of the three exorcists, blurring the man's face.
"I don't know from where, but I know I've seen him before." He looked back at the others with a weak smile that slowly faded as he realized how it all must sound. "I think he's okay... maybe..."
"We were supposed to come here to you now..."
Komui took a long sip of the awful coffee. "Let them in."
Part 3
Day/Theme: Jan. 2nd/ conjoined by mystery and fate
Series: D.Gray-Man
Character/Pairing: Ensemble, with a few OCs.
Rating: R
Notes: AU set right before the end of chapter 134, but assume spoilers through chapter 143 and following.
Part 1
Even before the viewscreen was turned on, a total of thirty-five weeks worth of wages had been bet on this all being Cross Marian's fault.
Publicly, Reever called the bettors idiots and told them it wasn't right to gamble on things like that. Privately, he congratulated himself on knowing better than to take a sucker's bet. Then, he pulled Johnny aside and told him to go through the papers on Komui's desk.
"Just in case," he whispered, slapping Johnny lightly between the shoulderblades and sending the poor soul to deal with mountains of paper that never seemed to get any smaller no matter how much sorting and signing was done. Everyone took their usual spots, 65 activated the screen, and lines of static quickly resolved into a picture.
The whole thing was an off-key echo of the day Allen first showed up: the entire science division staring at the screen and wondering what the hell was going on, Komui sipping at his coffee, Reever sprawled on the bench and concentrating more on the audio than the video, 65 practically pressed against the screen.
"How'd they get so close without anyone stopping them?" Komui asked. Again, it was like before, but this time the coffee was watery and pale; no one other than Lenalee really understood how the coffee pot was supposed to work.
And there was no Lenalee there to make the coffee. Even so, Reever chimed in with the answer. "Why would they? They look official. Who's on guard duty, anyway?"
"They should have known to look closely."
It wasn't exactly the same, but it was beginning to feel as if history had drawn back to some strange focal point. Allen's arrival had been the harbinger of swift and rapid change--not all of it good. Now this group was here, and no one seemed eager to know what would happen next. They wore studied boredom like a shield and they did their best not to hope.
A yelp, a fluttering cascade of falling paper, and a muffled cry for help hinted that Johnny was not having much luck with his search.
"Want me to call the Asia Branch and see what Cross says?" Reever asked over his shoulder. "He sent Allen..."
"Allen didn't come in full uniform." Komui said. These people looked more official than Allen did, but for some reason that didn't help. "I also didn't get a letter this time."
No one chose to respond to that remark. Johnny's complaints about spider bites and dust was commentary enough. Besides--and Reever didn't know if anyone else had picked up on it--there was an edge to Komui's voice.
"Cross wouldn't pay to have uniforms made up. Can anyone make out enough detail to see if they're really ours or not?"
"If someone faked them up, they did a good job of making them look like they've been through the wars. Sizing's off, though. Too bad we're losing daylight." Reever sat up and leaned forwards, elbows resting on splayed knees. He turned his attention away from the audio and the repeated, jollying statements that the speaker understood their suspicions, but if they could just talk to Branch Chief Komui, he was sure everything would be settled to everyone's satisfaction.
Once Reever actually took time to look at the video he thought he could make a pretty accurate guess as to why Komui was working towards a serious case of pissed-off.
"Why's the Finder the one doing all the talking?" Tapp asked.
As it turned out, there were four people outside, not the three they had expected to see. It did not reflect well on the watchman who called in the report that he had not seen fit to mention that the three Exorcists had come with their own Finder.
Of the four, the Finder's uniform was the poorest-fitting. The sleeves may have been the right length, but his bulky frame as lost in excess fabric, and the trousers looked more like pantaloons. The man had his hood up, but it didn't do much to obscure the broad jaw and Roman nose. Only the eyes were in any way shadowed, but the man used his hands as much as his voice to communicate, and everyone in Komui's office could read his growing frustration as the gate hemmed and hawed, stalling until it received orders to let them in.
"Just a word, a brief word, I beg you..." Hands scooped at the air as if inviting out those who were inside.
The three supposed exorcists stood several paces behind him, as if they were the Finder's attendants rather than the other way around.
The oldest, a slender, almost scrawny man with a thin, pinched face and sharply swept eyebrows--Reever put him at about Kanda's age, maybe a little older--stood off to the side of the group. His jacket and trousers were too large, but not to the extreme the Finder's were. At this angle, Reever couldn't tell if the light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail or simply combed back severely. For some reason, he had supplemented his uniform with an over-large green ascot that crowded up under his chin. He stood with every muscle tensed, fists clenching and staring at the gate as if wanting to issue a challenge. From time to time, he flicked his gaze towards the Finder as if wondering when the hell the man would get to the point and get them in.
"I swear to you upon the honor of the Holy Virgin, that we are true members of the Black Order..." Arms spread wide, indicating that they were all brothers, know it yet or not.
The oaths, which had started as almost playful, were gaining a faint edge of desperation. Still, though, the Finder kept up a jovial façade.
The other two exorcists were picking up on his anxiety, expressing it as he wouldn't. One, a dark-haired, Slavic-featured boy in his mid-teens, bounced on the balls of his feet and looked around up, down, sideways, and even swiveling to look back over his shoulder. Unlike the others, his uniform was too small, wrists and ankles well clear of the cuffs. He fidgeted with a small, smooth stick, twirling it over and over between his fingers. It was probably only a matter of time before he started tossing it up in the air and catching it.
Reever's earpiece buzzed. He tapped at it, listened, frowned. "Hevlaska knows they're out there--she can feel them, feel the Innocence resonating. Or something," he said. He looked over his shoulder. Komui was glaring at the screen. His knuckles were white from grasping his coffee cup. "You think they're legit, then?"
"I don't know." The simple statement betrayed far more hope and fear than it should have. They had lost so many; they had come so close to losing everything. If these exorcists were the real thing, it was a much needed miracle. If not...
Reever told himself that they had two Generals and well over a dozen Vatican-trained guards on site. That should be enough, right? He had a gun, if it came to that, but it was secured in his desk back in the labs.
But maybe these four were the real thing.
"I have vital information I must share, but I cannot share it here. Please understand..."
The last exorcist stood behind the fidgeting boy, nearly hidden by him. Her uniform was, like his, a size too small. It also showed signs of heavy wear--including deep charring on one cuff and sleeve that corresponded with a thick bandage on that wrist. She had wrapped her red silk shawl so tightly around her shoulders it looked more like a security blanket than a something a fashionable lady might wear on an evening out. If bets were being taken on the subject, Reever would bet five weeks' pay she was the reason behind Komui's cold, growing anger: the girl could be no more than ten years old.
It didn't take much imagination to see another girl standing in her place.
"Please. We have come a long way to re-join you, and we barely got to you in time. Will you please at least let us in so we can eat and get an hour or two of rest...".
"Did he just say re-join?" Reever barely heard Komui's incredulous protest over Johnny calling out couldn't find anything on the Chief's desk at the same time he also got a burst of screeching static straight in one ear.
"Damn it, Hevlaska!" he snapped, yanking the headset away from his ear. Komui turned to ask him what was going on, but Johnny had made his way around to the front of the room, never minding that he was blocking everyone's view. He was covered in cobwebs.
"Guys..." Johnny's head was cocked slightly, like a dog who'd just heard a high-pitched noise.
"Hevlaska wants to see them as soon as possible." Reever poked at his ear, hoping that would do something to restore the hearing. "Do you think it's worth--"
"I know this guy."
"It's a risk but--" Komui's voice cut short and he and everyone else stared at Johnny.
"You know him? Him who?"
Johnny tapped on the screen, leaving a smudge over the oldest of the three exorcists, blurring the man's face.
"I don't know from where, but I know I've seen him before." He looked back at the others with a weak smile that slowly faded as he realized how it all must sound. "I think he's okay... maybe..."
"We were supposed to come here to you now..."
Komui took a long sip of the awful coffee. "Let them in."
Part 3